


Say You Won't Let Go

by psychotic_fangirl369



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depressed Harry Potter, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining Draco Malfoy, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Sexual Tension, Sexuality Crisis, Slytherins Being Slytherins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-02-28 18:26:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13277295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychotic_fangirl369/pseuds/psychotic_fangirl369
Summary: Returning to Hogwarts after the war, Harry tries to settle back into his life, but finds it difficult. The effects of the war are weighing down on him and he doesn't know how to go on. But help comes in the unexpected form of his former nemesis, Draco Malfoy. Together, the two boys learn how to deal with their dark pasts and move forward into a world full of light and love.*ON HOLD*





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Heya all. 
> 
> This is my first ever Drarry fic and I hope you all enjoy. I will try to post an update once a week. I hope you all enjoy this as much as I have enjoyed writing it. 
> 
> I will add additional tags as required once I have gotten further in the story, but I don't think there will be anything serious that has been left out.

**Prologue**

 

Harry drifts in and out of consciousness. His head feels like it’s about to explode; so does his entire body. He is vaguely aware of light and voices and people saying his name. He feels a soft hand holding his and fingers carding through his hair. But then he is lost again and there is only darkness. And memories. He doesn’t know how long it is before he is partially conscious again. He can make out blurred images and a face, _his face._ He tries to speak, to let him know that he is okay, but he can’t get the words out.

“It’s okay, Harry,” the voice says, soothing, as fingers brush his forehead.

He realizes that his body is hot, burning, and that his hair is stuck to his face due to the sweat oozing from his body. Then he is throwing up and it’s all over him and he wants to cry. He thinks he is crying, from pain and disgust. But then he is in someone’s arms and the world sways, before he is eased into a warm bath. Someone wipes a cloth over his face and body and he feels himself drift off again.

Sometime later he hears voices.

“Will he be okay, Professor?”

“I hope so. I certainly hope so.”  
Then he hears screaming and he realizes with horror that it is coming from him. Cold hands are on his body and he screams louder, harder, as pain courses through his veins. He’s on fire, hot and flaming. He feels his body twist and turn in awkward angles as the heat jolts him.

_“Make it stop!”_ He screams out. He must have said it out loud because a whispered reply follows, saying, “I’m trying to, Harry. I’m trying.”  
His screams fade to a soft whimpering sob and the soft fingers are back in his hair.

“I love you, Harry. You hold on, okay?”  
Harry feels drained, the magic and energy in his blood gone. But he tries to reply, needing to reassure him that he will be okay.

“I-” he rasps, his eye lids fluttering shut. “Love. You.” He coughs and he can feel himself fading. “Draco...”

Then he is no more.

 

 

 

 

 

**Chapter One**

**8 Months Ago…**

None of them speak on the train journey to Hogwarts. Their compartment remains dim, the blinds pulled down. Hermione is reading diligently, whilst Ron stares gloomily at the wall. Ginny is sitting next to Harry, her hand in his. Harry stares at the floor, feeling empty and alone. He finally understands the saying he heard as a child. There are no winners in war. Only survivors.

Unable to bear the silence, Harry stands, nodding at Ron before slipping out of the compartment. He slowly walks down the train and he can’t help the glimmer of jealousy he feels when he sees friends laughing together, happy. He remembers when that used to be him, but even then, he was always in the line of fire. He was always a target. At least he had been _happy._ Now… now he is just a shell of the boy that he used to be; of the boy who fought in the war. He knows that Ron and Hermione want to help, but they can’t. They just don’t understand. They don’t know what it is like to die. They don’t know what it is like to have Voldemort inside your head. They don’t know what it’s like to have thousands of people looking to you, a _child,_ to save them.

Harry keeps walking when he spots an empty compartment and slips inside. He quickly draws the blind and the room sinks into gloomy darkness.

This was a mistake, Harry muses to himself. He shouldn’t have decided to return to Hogwarts. But where else would you go, a voice whispers. And it is true. He has no family to care for him. Sirius is dead. Lupin, Tonks – dead. The Weasley’s have enough to deal with, what with the death of their son. They have done so much for him over the years and, to be honest, he doesn’t think that he could handle being with them. Not now. Not after everything.

Not for the first time, Harry wishes he had stayed dead. And, sometimes, he thinks his friends wish it too. They are unsure of this new Harry. This silent, broken boy that he has become. He wishes that he could fix himself, but he doesn’t know how.

The compartment door opens and Harry jumps in his seat. Glancing up, he meets the gaze of the last person he expected to see. Draco Malfoy eyes Harry slowly and calculatingly, before sitting down opposite him. Harry stares, unable to look away or hide his surprise. The blond boy’s skin is pasty and his cheeks look sunken. It hits Harry then that this usually perfectly put together boy is in shambles.

Draco stares back unblinkingly, before nodding and looking away. They stay like that, neither making a noise, simply sharing in each other’s presence. It isn’t as uncomfortable as it ought to be.

A while later, Ron sticks his head in and stops dead when he sees Malfoy. He opens his mouth to protest, but Harry hurriedly speaks up.

“Leave him alone, Ron.”  
Ron’s mouth opens and closes as he stares at Harry in shock.

“He’s a Death Eater, Harry! Everything he did-“

“Wasn’t his fault nor done by choice,” Harry interjects. “I didn’t have a choice in my role, Ron. It was given to me the day Voldemort killed my parents. Same goes for Malfoy. He did what he had to to protect his family, as well as to stay alive. Besides, I saved him, he saved me. We’re even.”

Ron is fuming, but Harry can’t find it in him to care. He watches the red haired boy storm away without a word. Harry sighs deeply. Just great. Now he has to deal with his best friend being pissed at him.

Malfoy eyes him curiously. “Aren’t you going after Weasley?”

Harry just shakes his head. “No. I meant what I said. He needs to get over it.”  
Malfoy shifts uncomfortably in his seat and Harry is struck by how worn out and drained he appears. Neither says anything for the rest of the trip and when they reach Hogwarts, Malfoy slips into the crowd and is gone.

 

 

 

 

The Great Hall is half empty this year; not many students choosing to return so soon after the war. The Sorting Ceremony is brief and lacks the usual enthusiasm. Once it is over, Headmistress McGonagall steps forward to speak. “I have some news, regarding the returning seventh years.”  
Harry tenses and shares confused and worried glances with Hermione.

“Due to there being so few of you,” she continues.

Harry nods in agreement as he glances around. Barely any of their year has returned. He swallows hard in disappointment. Not that he blames them for their choices. Their entire school careers had included Harry and Voldemort in some form or another. And their final year here wasn’t exactly one full of pleasant memories.

“All seventh years will be rooming together this year. A separate tower has been prepared. After the feast, please remain behind for further instructions.”  
A hushed murmur floods the hall. Another tower with just seventh years? Students immediately dive into discussions about the new development as they eat. Harry says nothing, too busy panicking. He looks around, picking out the faces of the returning seventh years. There is himself, Ron and Hermione. Malfoy. Pansy Parkinson. Blaise Zabini. Theodore Nott. Susan Bones. Padma and Parvati Patil. Michael Corner. He tries to picture it. Him, Ron, Malfoy, Zabini, Nott and Michael, in a dorm room together. For a year. Yeah, no, he can’t imagine it. Neither can Ron he muses, watching his best friends face turn green at the thought.

The meal goes quickly after that and soon the rest of the school is filing out of the hall and heading to their rooms. As Ginny passes him, she leans down and kisses him quickly on the lips. The flutter he used to feel around her is gone, instead leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He pulls back instantly. When he sees Ginny’s hurt and confused expression, he forces a smile. Then he turns back to Ron and Hermione. Over their shoulders, he spots Malfoy glaring at Ginny. Harry rolls his eyes. Typical.

Professor McGonagall steps forward. “All of you, come closer please.”  
The seventh years shuffle down their tables until they are close to her, eyeing the professor expectantly. Malfoy looks as though he’d rather be anywhere but here. Harry can’t blame him.

McGonagall claps her hands, eyeing them all. “I know this might be a shock to some of you, but I expect you all to be on your best behavior.”

Malfoy scowls. Harry blinks, pinching himself. Stop staring at Malfoy, git, he scolds himself, turning back to McGonagall.

“As a united graded, I expect you to promote unity. You have all been through a lot and holding grudges will not be beneficial. I hate to say it, but if Mr Potter and Mr Malfoy can be seen getting along, well,” she swallows, “maybe the rest of the world will follow suit and let the past remain where it belongs.”

The two boys eye each other dubiously. Sure, Harry doesn’t blame Malfoy nor does he hate him, but he still thinks that he is a giant git. Harry might be able to put his blame and hatred aside, but they are still a long way off from being friends.

The professor nods before gesturing for them to follow her. “Your rooms are this way.”

Silently, the eleven students follow her through the corridors and up the stair cases. They stop when they reach a portrait of a handsome knight.

“This is Sir Robert,” McGonagall states. “Password, unity.”  
Malfoy scoffs and Harry shoots him a look. Their gazes meet and both boys hurriedly look away, holding back a burst of laughter. It's unexpected, the jolt of happiness Harry feels. It gives him hope. They all step through the portrait into their new rooms. The common room is very similar to that of Gryffindor’s aside from the colour scheme. The colours of all four houses are artistically woven into the furniture and décor. Harry looks over at Malfoy and notices that the Slytherin boy looks as though he is about to throw up. Harry smiles to himself and follows Ron up the stairs to where McGonagall had said the boy’s dorm is. Harry steps inside and is pleased to see that it looks exactly the same as his old Gryffindor room, aside from the colours. He spots his trunk and walks over to it, hastily pulling out his pajamas. Without looking at the other boy’s, Harry tugs off his clothes and yanks on the loose fitting pajamas. He can feel Malfoy’s gaze burning into his skin. Ignoring it, he scrambles under the covers of his bed, drawing the curtains around him.

“Night, Ron.”

“Night, Harry.”

He pauses.

“Night, Malfoy. Zabini. Nott. Night, Michael.”

Michael. “Night.”  
Silence. Then.

“Goodnight, Potter.”

“Goodnight.”

“Night.”

Harry casts a quick silencing charm and soon he is sleeping fitfully once more. 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's this weeks update! I'm away on a camp for the rest of this week, however, I have written next weeks update, I just need to type it up so the next update will be either Monday to Tuesday. 
> 
> Enjoy xx

 

**Chapter Two**

Harry is 5 minutes late for potions. Professor Slughorn eyes him with a blank expression.

“Good, you’re here, Mr Potter,” he says. “I was just about to assign your partners for the year. For this year you will be working in pairs and we shall have to have one group of three. Right. When I call out your partner, please move to join them at a working station. Ronald Weasley and Susan Bones. Theodore Nott and Parvati Patil. Hermione Granger, Blaise Zabini and Padma Patil.”

Harry’s heart sinks. He’s either stuck with Parkinson, Corner or Malfoy. Please be Corner.

“Pansy Parkinson and Michael Corner.”

No such luck. Harry feels ready to drop dead.

“Lastly, Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter.”  
No one looks too pleased with their partners. It is evident that Slughorn has paired them with people they wouldn’t usually choose to be with.

“Right, now, pair up, all of you,” Slughorn says.

Sullenly, Harry wanders away from the doorway and sits down next to Malfoy. He tugs his copy of _Advanced Potion Making_ and awaits the professor’s instructions, making sure not to look over and meet Malfoy’s gaze.

Slughorn coughs. “Right, so, we will be starting with a potion you are familiar with due to, uh, most of you not having time to brew potions in a while. Today we will be brewing Draught of Peace.”

Harry groans. He hates this potion. Despite its usefulness, it is difficult to make and he has yet to succeed at it. The other pairs split up as some move to collect ingredients and others prepare the equipment. When Malfoy doesn’t move, Harry turns to face him.

“Should I go get the stuff?”

Malfoy gives him a curt nod, not looking at him.

Sighing, Harry stands and walks to the ingredients cabinet. He grabs the jars labelled _Powdered Moonstone, Syrup of Hellebore, Powdered Unicorn Horn_ and _Powdered Porcupine Quills._ Balancing them carefully, Harry walks back over to the table. Malfoy looks up, before turning back to the instructions, his expression carefully blank.

“So…” Harry mutters.

Malfoy picks up the moonstone and starts pouring it in to the cauldron, sliding the instructions to Harry as he does so.

“I’m not very good at potions,” Harry points out, staring down at the paper before him dubiously.

Malfoy doesn’t reply, but Harry can see his lips twitch up in an almost smile. They work in silence for the rest of the lesson. And, when they finish – successfully – Malfoy offers Harry a small smile.

 

 

*****

 

 

Ron leans back on the couch with a content sigh. “Two weeks into the year and no one has tried to kill you, Harry. How does it feel, to finally have peace?”

Harry laughs, but is forced. It doesn’t feel nearly as amazing as it should. Neither Ron nor Hermione notice his discomfort. “It feels… good.”  
Ginny walks in then, glancing around. Her long hair hangs loosely down her back. Once upon a time, Harry would have given anything to be with her, to be loved by her. But now… now he just wants to be left alone.

“Nice dorm,” Ginny remarks. Then she turns to Harry, holding out her hand with a playful smirk on her face. “Come on.”  
Half-heartedly, Harry takes her hand and stands. Offering a weak smile at his friends, he lets Ginny pull him from the room.

They walk quietly down the hallway until they reach a secluded area in the hallway. Then Ginny has him pressed up against the wall and her lips are moving greedily against his. He feels ill. He gently pushes on her shoulders.

“Ginny, I-“  
“Shh,” she murmurs, kissing him again. Forcefully, Harry pushes her away. As she stumbles, he moves quickly away from the wall so that she is unable to corner him again.

“No,” he says.

Ginny shoots him a hurt look. “But Harry. Babe- “

He shakes his head, feeling weary and drained. He can’t do this. He can’t do any of it. He is just so done. He can’t pretend to be someone he isn’t anymore. “Ginny. I just can’t. The Harry I was before the war is gone. He died, Ginny.”

“We’ll get him back,” Ginny protests. “You just need ti- “

“He’s gone, Ginny! I just can’t be with you. All I can think about every single minute of every single day is the war. I can see the faces of those who died because I wasn’t good enough! I can hear the voices of people screaming. I can feel Voldemort killing me over and over. I just… I just can’t be in a relationship. With you. Or anyone.”

His shoulders sag, exhausted.

Ginny bursts out crying and dashes away. Harry leans against the wall and slides to the floor. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he simply couldn’t lie about his feelings any longer. He groans, burying his face in his hands. Ron is going to be so pissed.

There is a slight cough and then the rustle of fabric as someone sits down next to him. He looks up to find Malfoy staring determinedly a head, but holding out a candy bar in Harry’s direction. He takes it, muttering a thanks. Slowly, he opens the wrapper.

“Did Voldemort kill you?” Malfoy whispers.

Harry hesitates, before nodding. “Yes. He did. But I was given the choice to come back and end him.”

Malfoy nods, gingerly taking Harry’s wrist in his and pressing his fingers against his pulse point for a few moments, before dropping it. Harry ignores the shiver that shoots through him and bites into the chocolate, letting out a moan at the caramel flavor. Malfoy shoots him a disgusted look.

“Having such an orgasmic reaction to chocolate isn’t normal, Potter.”

Harry snorts. “Piss off, Malfoy. If you had grown up half starved, you’d find chocolate orgasmic too.”

Malfoy frowns and Harry realizes his mistake.

“I wasn’t starved,” Harry stammers, standing. “I was just, uh, bye.”

He quickly turns, cheeks flaming, and dashes away.

“Hey, Potter!” Malfoy yells.

Harry freezes, but doesn’t turn around.

“I’m glad you are alive.”  
Harry’s heart stammers and after shooting a glance over his shoulder and seeing Malfoy gone, he runs towards the dorm. When he reaches the common room, Ron and Hermione are waiting for him. Ron is pacing, a furious expression etched onto his scarlet face. Harry shoots Hermione a panicked expression. She shrugs helplessly, mouthing ‘sorry’.

“How could you?” Ron fumes.

Harry winces.

“She loves you, you prat! And after everything, _everything,_ you go and dump her! You inconsiderate, lying snake!”

“Ron!” Hermione apprehends.

Harry sighs in exasperation. “Would you have preferred for me to lie to her and say I love her when I don’t? That would hurt her more in the long run, Ron. She deserves the truth!”  
Ron glowers. “You bastard. You should have stayed dead.”  
Hermione gasps, horrified. Harry stumbles back, the blood draining from his face. Ron looks stunned, as though he can’t believe he just said that. But when Hermione demands that he apologizes, he refuses. Harry is trembling, shocked and hurt. _You should have stayed dead._

“I have to go,” he whispers, tears welling in her eyes.

He turns and flees from the room.  

 

 

 

*****

 

 

Harry can feel Ron’s glare on him from the other end of the 7th year table. Hermione places a hand on his shoulder and squeezes gently. He shoots her a grateful smile before turning back to his meal. It’s been one week since the breakup and Ron still hasn’t spoken to him. Hermione has stubbornly remained on Harry’s side, refusing to talk to her boyfriend until he apologizes to Harry. The rumors spread quickly throughout the school and whispers follow Harry through the halls once more.

Hermione leans in and whispers, “Don’t worry. I have a plan to get back at Ron.”

Harry frowns. “I don’t want you two to fight because of me.”  
“Ron deserves it!” Hermione scowls. “What he said was completely uncalled for and until he apologizes for his shameful behavior he can forget that we were ever dating.” She huffs, reaching into her bag and pulling out a perfume bottle. She grins. “This is amortenia. This ought to get to Ron.”

She squirts a bit on herself and turns to Harry. “Well? Does it work?”

Harry sniffs. “I- I recognize the scent, but I can’t think where from.”  
Suddenly, Michael, who is a few seats down from them, turns to Hermione with wide eyes.

“Bloody hell, Hermione. You smell… amazing. Want to go out sometime?”

Ron overhears and a seething glare is cast in Michael’s direction. Hermione winks at Harry.

“Told you.”

 

 

*****

 

 

 

Blaise lies on his bed, sighing. “Honestly, Draco. I think I’m in love.”

Draco scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I don’t want to know, Blaise.”  
Blaise pouts. “But I think I’m in love with- “

Draco dashes from the room, scowling. He doesn’t want to know about Blaise’s love life. He leaves the dorm and walks down the corridor in search of the Room of Requirement. He rounds a corner and lets out a yelp of surprise as he slams into Granger. He scowls, stepping back.

“Watch it!” Then he pauses – sniffs. He smirks. “So that’s why Potter dumped girl Weasley. Honestly, Granger, you should try to be a bit more subtle.”  
Granger frowns. “What on earth are you talking about, Malfoy?”  
He scoffs. “You and Potter are obviously having an affair. You reek of Potter’s shampoo. I’m guessing Weasel found out and that’s why you haven’t spoken in nearly two weeks.”

Granger stares at him, stunned. Then she grips his arm and pulls him into the nearby empty classroom. She tugs a bottle out of her pocket.

“I’ve been wearing Amortenia for the past five days to get back at Ron for being a bastard to Harry about the breakup.”

Draco stares at the vile in horror. He snatches it from her grip and inspects it, sniffing. Sure enough, Granger is telling the truth.

“Fuck,” he whispers.

Granger smiles. “I won’t say anything Malfoy, but maybe you should.”  
Draco scoffs. “Are you mad?” He swallows. “Besides, just because I like the scent of Potter’s shampoo, doesn’t mean I like him.”

Granger nods, but he can tell she doesn’t believe him.

“You know, Malfoy. I hate you. After everything you have done, you deserve to rot in Azkaban. But Harry insists that you aren’t to blame and that I have to be nice to you.”

She keeps her eyes locked on his. “If Harry can forgive you, can’t really be all that bad.”

And then, with a flourish, she is gone.

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Potter winces as, once again, he adds the wrong ingredients into the cauldron.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, eyes wide.

Draco shrugs and vanishes the potion, preparing to start again. Potter sighs and hands him the jar of moonstone. Carefully, Draco starts the process again. Whilst he is busy, a paper airplane lands on on the table. He glances around to find Granger grinning at him. He looks down at the plane and sighs, before opening it slowly.

 

 

_You are so in love with him._

Draco scoffs and writes a quick reply _– fuck off_ – then sends the plane flying. Granger laughs when she opens it and scribbles something before throwing it back to him.

 

_You didn’t deny it._

“Why on earth are you and Hermione passing notes?”

Draco looks up at Potter’s baffled expression. “Uh.”

“That’s all for today,” Slughorn booms. “Have a good weekend.”

Draco hurries from the classroom, ignoring Potter’s curious gaze.

After that, it happens in every class. Granger constantly sends him notes and he finds himself looking forward to them, although he’d hex himself before admitting to it. Even more so, he enjoys seeing the confused and horrified glances Potter throws him whenever it happens. The Golden Trio have made up as they are sitting together again and Granger has stopped reeking of Potter.

Six weeks into the term and Granger decides to sit next to him in Transfiguration. Weasley looks ready to pass out at the sight and Potter looks, well, Draco isn’t sure. Blaise teases him about the new friendship and Draco bites back his retorts. And, although he refuses to admit it, Granger isn’t as bad as he thought.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The piano piece in this chapter can be found at this link. 
> 
> https://youtu.be/-H6CUWsOPXA
> 
> This piece had not been composed yet as it only came out a couple years ago, but this is a fictional story so just ignore that. 
> 
> Enjoy.

**Chapter Three**

_Harry’s wand flies from his hand and he stumbles backwards as Voldemort advances, a dark gleam in his eyes. Harry falls and the Dark Lord laughs, aiming his wand pointedly at Harry._

_“Stupid boy! Did you really think you could beat me?”_

_Harry cries out and clambers onto his knees, desperately crawling away. Voices swarm around him, causing him to look up. Ghosts surround him. Cedric. Sirius. Dumbledore. Moody. Dobby. Hedwig. Fred. Lupin. Tonks. Lavender. Colin. Snape. They scream at him and he covers his ears, trying to block out the sounds, but it doesn’t work._

_“You were supposed to save us!” They scream. “You failed! It’s your fault we’re dead!”_

_Then his parents are there and his mother is screaming, yelling._

_“Harry!”_

 

 

He jolts up in bed with a start, sweat covering his skin and plastering his mattered hair to his forehead. He reaches out with shaking hands for his glasses and wand.

“Lumos,” he whispers.

Light floods his curtained bed and his tremors start to subside. He swings his legs over the side of the bed and quietly slips from the room. He wanders down the halls, making his way to the Room of Requirement. The room has been his safe haven all year, mostly at night. The nightmares he is subjected to always leave him desperate and begging for the rooms help. The things he thought he needed still haven’t helped. So, tonight, he tries a different tactic. As he reaches the room, he thinks hard. _Give me what I need to be happy._ Slowly, the door appears and he steps inside. The room looks the same as it did the night of the fire. It is slightly blackened and scorched. It is eerie silent. Harry frowns. How is this supposed to make him happy? Then, softly, the hauntingly beautiful sound of a piano floods the room. He tenses for a moment, before following the sound. He walks as though in a dream, until he rounds a corner and stops, stunned.

Malfoy is sitting at a grand piano, his eyes closed and cheeks wet with tears as his fingers dance across the keys in a hauntingly sad melody.

Harry stands silently, watching in awe. He didn’t know Malfoy played the piano. He can’t tear his eyes away. Malfoy is completely engrossed in his playing, his body moving with the melody. His fingers still after playing one last eerie note. Harry lets out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding.

“Beautiful,” he whispers.

Malfoy’s eyes shoot open and he turns his head to the left, his eyes landing on Harry. He looks surprised, but not unhappy, to see him.

“That was beautiful,” Harry says again.

Malfoy smiles slightly. “Lullaby by Mattia Cupelli.”

Harry edges closer. “I didn’t know that you played.”

Malfoy shrugs. “There is a lot you don’t know about me, Potter.”  
Yes, Harry supposes. That’s true. He wanders over and gently pushes on Malfoy’s shoulder so that the other boy moves over and Harry can sit next to him. Their shoulders brush gently and Harry casts him a side long glance, wondering why on earth the Room of Requirement gave him Malfoy when he asked for something to make him happy.

“What are you doing up?” He asks.

Malfoy shrugs. “My dreams. Nightmares. I haven’t slept for more than an hour at a time in nearly two years.”

Harry is stunned by Malfoy’s honesty. Especially when the other boy keeps on talking.

“I know you won’t believe me, but I need to tell you. I never wanted any of it to happen, Potter. My father is an awful man who made all the wrong choices. And then Voldemort returned and I did what he asked to keep my mother alive, but I didn’t want to do any of it and I’m sorry.”

Malfoy stares determinedly at the piano keys, refusing to meet Harry’s gaze. Harry doesn’t say anything. They sit there in silence, neither feeling the need to break it. A while later, Harry stands. “We should probably get back to the dorm…” He doesn’t really want to.

Malfoy nods and stands, but neither makes their way towards the door. Malfoy raises an eyebrow at Harry’s unblinking gaze. Harry coughs, gingerly scratching his head and moving his eyes to the floor.

“Listen, Malfoy, I think that maybe you aren’t as bad as I thought. You just got in with the wrong sort and I’m sorry. Maybe we should start over? As friends?” he doesn’t bother trying to hide the hopefulness in his tone.

He sticks his hand out for Malfoy to shake. The other boy tears his eyes from Harry’s face and down to the out stretched hand, before looking back up to meet Harry’s uncertain gaze. Malfoy’s expression is blank. Harry’s heart almost stops beating. Maybe he made a mistake? Maybe Malfoy doesn’t want to change? Maybe he really does hate Harry?

“I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks.”  
Both boys stare at each other for several moments before they burst out laughing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Draco awakes with a smile on his face for the first time in years. He can tell by the noise around him that the other boys are already awake and that breakfast must be soon. He climbs out of bed, pushing back the curtains around his bed. Blaise and Theo look up when they see him.

“Come on, we’re late.”  
Unable to help himself, he glances over at Potter’s bed and is disappointed to see it empty. He grins as he remembers the early hours of the morning. After Potter and himself had calmed their hysterical laughter, they had shaken hands and called for a truce. There is still a lot of past quarrels between them, and it is the start of a friendship. And, maybe… maybe one day… Draco shakes his head. He is so not going there.

He quietly gets ready and then Theo, Blaise and himself hurry down to breakfast. As they enter the Great Hall, Draco’s eyes immediately scan the tables, eyes searching for Potter. Draco smiles when he spots him with the Weasel and Granger. His hair looks atrocious, but he looks beautiful, like always. He wants to punch himself for being such a sap.

Granger spots him and waves, flashing him a wink. He rolls his eyes but smiles at her. Potter glances around to see who she’s waving at and when he spots Draco, his entire face lights up in a blinding grin. It makes Draco melt inside.

“Hey, Draco!” Potter yells. “Come sit with us!”  
Draco doesn’t know what shocks him more: Potter calling him Draco or inviting him to join the Golden Trio for breakfast in front of the entire school.

Beside him, Theo and Blaise are staring at him in shock. He shoots them a smug grin and wanders over to Potter, sitting down next to him.

“Morning, Harry,” he says casually, dishing himself a plate.

He looks up at Granger and she grins smugly. Weasley stares, stunned.

“Morning, Hermione,” Draco continues. “… Ron.”

Weasel chokes on his food. Harry nudges him slightly, grinning. He grins back. They eat quickly, the rest of the school’s eyes on them, silent. Once they are done, Potter stands and holds out his hand to help Draco up.

“Walk to Defense with me?” Harry asks.

Draco nods and follows Harry out of the hall. They walk quietly towards the classroom. When they reach it, it’s empty. Harry shoots him a cheeky grin and drags him inside the classroom. Draco shoots him a confused look.

“When we were younger, I used to get jealous of you,” Harry says, wringing his hands.

Draco scoffs. “What in Merlin’s name could I have that possibly made you jealous?”  
Harry laughs bitterly. “A family. Friends. Brains. I had nothing at first. All I ever wanted was to be loved, and you had that.”  
“My father doesn’t love me – he never did.”  
Potter looks up at him with wide eyes. “Maybe. Maybe not. But at least you have a father. That’s something I’ll never have.”  
  


 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter and the long wait. School is hectic and I have tons of projects and tests. 
> 
> Despite it being short, I hope you enjoy the update!

 

**Chapter Four**

Harry sobs quietly in his bed, glad that he remembered to cast a silencing charm the night before. He curls into the blanket as another heartfelt sob jerks his body. The memories hit him hard. All the death, all the pain. He squeezes his eyes tightly shut as he hiccups, tears and snot dripping down his face. A taunting voice floods his mind. _You lost, Harry. You may have defeated Voldemort, but you became a murderer, just like him._

“No,” he whispers.

He isn’t a murderer. He did what he had to do to save the majority. Right? He sobs harder. There is no escaping the darkness of his mind. Trembling, he orders himself to focus. His mind calms – centers.

“Draco,” he murmurs. “I need Draco.”

With that thought in mind, he clambers out of his bed and wanders over to Draco’s. Harry tugs open the curtains and sits down on the edge of the bed. He gazes down on the sleeping boy for a moment and smiles. Draco is beautiful. Then he frowns. Where in Merlin’s name had that come from? Clearing his thoughts, he gently nudges Draco, trying to wake him.

“Draco, wake up,” he whispers.

Draco groans and tugs the covers over his head for a moment, before peaking his eyes out, squinting sleepily. His disheveled hair and innocent expression tugs at Harry’s heart. Draco yawns and then focuses on Harry. A frown takes over his peaceful expression and he sits up instantly, his thumb reaching out and brushing his tearstained face. It sends tingles through Harry’s body and he tries to hide his shudder.

“Harry, what’s wrong?” The other boy demands, voice serious.

Harry sighs deeply and leans into Draco’s lingering touch. “Nightmares,” he whispers.

Draco stares at him for a few moments, before wriggling back in his bed and lifting the covers.

“Come here.”  
Harry doesn’t hesitate, clambering in next to his friend and hugging him tightly. Draco’s arms wrap around him and soft lips press a kiss to his temple. It makes Harry’s heart swell.

“Go to sleep. I’ve got you.”

And, for the first time in years, Harry sleeps peacefully.

 

 

 

******

 

 

“Christmas is in two weeks. Where are you going?”

Draco jumps, startled, and looks up at Harry, perched on the arm rest of the couch. His messy hair is in need of a cut, almost touching his shoulders. Draco shrugs.

“Well, father is an arse. Mother is in France. I guess I’m staying here this year.”

Harry grins. It’s disarming, how bright it is.

“Good.”

Draco frowns. “Aren’t you going to the Weas- Ron’s?”  
Harry smirks at the slip up. “I just… can’t.”

Draco nods. He understands. He really does. Harry slides off the arm rest and onto the couch next to him, practically sitting on top of him. Draco chuckles lightly and shuffles away to make room, but not far enough so that they are no longer touching. Unconsciously, Draco reaches up and plays with the strands of hair on his neck.  The brunet lets out a content whimper and leans back into his hand. Draco grins into Harry’s hair.

“I can’t believe we ever hated each other,” Harry whispers.

“I never hated you,” Draco replies.

At that moment, Hermione and Ron walk in. Hermione takes in their position and smirks. Ron just looks a bit traumatized, as though he can’t imagine why his best friend would let Draco play with his hair. Draco almost feels bad for him. Harry seems oblivious, like always, and leans closer, tilting his head back to rest it on Draco’s shoulder.

“We were just talking about Christmas,” Harry says. He casts a nervous glance at Weasel. Draco gently brushes his fingers over the back of Harry’s neck. Harry shoots him a small smile before looking back at Ron. “I’m staying here this year.”

Ron sits down wither Hermione, frowning. “Why? You always spend Christmas with us.”  
Harry shrugs. “I just can’t, Ron. Not after… I need time.”  
Weasel still looks confused, but Hermione smiles.

“We understand.”

Draco looks at her. She doesn’t understand. But Harry looks so pleased, that Draco decides to keep his mouth shut.

 

 

 

******

 

 

Draco strolls alongside Harry, out of the Hogwarts grounds. It’s lunch time, Christmas Eve and the two boys are preparing to Apparate to Edinburgh for the day. They find a quiet clearing and Draco grips Harry’s hand, a queasy feeling filling him as they Apparate.

They land in a quiet backstreet. Draco hunches over and squeezes his eyes shut, swallowing down the bile in his throat. Harry’s hand gently rubs his back.

“You okay?” Harry asks.

Draco stands up straight, nodding. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good.”

They share a smile before walking out the alley way and into the busy streets of the city.  As they walk, Harry jokingly teases and shoves Draco. The carefree playfulness makes him warm inside. Then Harry stops, staring excitedly. Draco follows his gaze to the cinema. Draco shakes his head in disbelief.

“You want to go to a muggle movie?”

Harry nods. “Please. Star Trek: Insurrection just came out.”

Draco relents. “Fine.”

 

 

 

 

Draco is still feeling high when they walk out the cinema a few hours later, Harry leaning against him and laughing breathlessly as he re accounts his favorite scenes of the movie.   Draco can’t help but wrap his arm around Harry’s shoulders and pull him closer. Harry doesn’t seem to mind.

The soft lilt of violin’s floods the air and as they round a corner they come across a cellist and violinists, forming a semi-circle, as the caressing notes of Pachelbel’s Canon in D dance across the strings. The two boy’s stop, arms still around each other, as they take in the beautiful melody.  Draco lets out a content sigh when Harry leans back against his chest, his head tilted back on Draco’s shoulder. They stand like that until the song ends and then slowly untangle themselves from each other. Harry flashes him a grin.

“Want to grab dinner?”  
Draco nods. Harry grips his hand and pulls him towards the pub. They step inside into the warmth and Harry flashes a grin at the waiter.

“Table for two, please.”

They are led over to a small table near the raging fire. They sit quietly, scanning the menu and ordering their meals. Then Harry leans on the table and smiles.

“I’m glad I get to spend Christmas eve with you.”

Draco grins shyly, feeling himself blush. Unable to stand the adoring way in which Harry is staring at him, he stands, nodding towards the bar and asking Harry what he wants. Then he wanders over and orders the drinks, taking the liquor back to the table. He sits down, taking a cool sip of his own drink. He sighs. Harry grins. He does that a lot, Draco muses. A lot more than when they first returned to Hogwarts and Harry looked like a ghost. 

“What actually happened second year in the Chamber of Secrets?” Draco asks, unable to help himself.

It is something he has wondered often. And he feels a desperate need to steer them into a safe territory, away from this slightly awkward smiling and staring. Harry downs his drink and stands.

“We’re going to need a lot more to drink if I’m going to tell you _that_ story.”

A few hours later, they stumble down the street, tipsy as hell and happy. Harry spots a club and, with shinning eyes, he drags Draco inside.

It’s dark inside, with flashing lights and sweaty bodies moving in time to the pounding music. Harry giggles – actually giggles – and leans into Draco, his breath grazing Draco’s cheek. He groans internally. Tipsy, happy, touchy Harry is so damn adorable.

“I love this song!” Harry exclaims, dragging Draco out onto the dance floor. Draco lets him, laughing as they start moving together in time with the beat.   
“With the lights out, it's less dangerous, here we are now, entertain us, I feel stupid and contagious, here we are now, entertain us,” Harry belts out.

Draco joins in, the familiar lyrics of Nirvana’s Smells like Teen Spirit falling out of his mouth in a drunken slur.

The song draws to a close and Draco tugs Harry over to the bar, ordering more drinks. They down several before another song they both love comes on. They stumble into the middle of the dance floor, bodies brushing as they dance together, singing loudly and out of tune. When they finally stumble out of the club several hours later, neither can walk straight, let alone Apparate. Draco spots an inn a few miles down and slips his arm around Harry’s back, helping him walk the short distance. A bell chimes as they enter, causing the old woman behind the reception desk to look up. She raises an eyebrow in disgusted understanding, her nose wrinkling as she smells the alcohol on them. Draco digs through his pocket and tosses her the bills. In turn, she hands him a key.

“Thanks,” Draco mutters.

They somehow make it up the stairs and into the small, dingy room that they are renting. Draco immediately notices that there is only one bed, but he is too drunk to care. Then Harry is stumbling into the adjoined bathroom and the sound of wrenching follows. Draco grabs one of the provided mugs off the small table and dashes into the bathroom. He places it on the counter and kneels behind Harry. He gently brushes back Harry’s hair, keeping it out of his face as he continues to throw up.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “I’ve got you.”

Harry stops being sick and sinks against the wall, laughing lightly. Draco helps him stand and fills the mug with water, handing it to Harry. He steps back as Harry rinses his mouth and washes his face. A few moments later, Harry looks over his shoulder and shoots him a wide grin, his eyes bright.

Beautiful, Draco thinks. Harry is so damn beautiful. Draco bites his lip. The alcohol is making his mind fuzzy. He shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He helps Harry back into the room and into the hard, uncomfortable bed. Then, he quickly slips in next to him. They lie there silently for a few moments, before Harry shuffles slightly in the bed. Shuffles more. And more. Until his back is pressed firmly to Draco’s chest. Draco swallows hard and wraps his arms around Harry, burying his face in his neck and breathing in his scent.

“Get some rest,” Draco murmurs, feeling Harry shiver.

Then he closes his eyes and succumbs to the darkness.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the extremely long wait.

**Chapter Five**

It's raining. It's cold. It's grey. The heavy torrents of water haven't let up in over a week and the miserable weather has left most of the students miserable too.

Harry sits on the stands beside the quidditch pitch, alone. His robes are soaked through and cling to his skin in a soggy mess. He's miserable. But not because of the weather. And not because Gryffindor just lost to Ravenclaw. No, Harry is miserable because he misses playing. He misses the thrill it used to give him as he swooped after the ball in a wild dive, catching the snitch and winning the match for his team. He misses the easy way that he could fall into the game and forget about all the drama happening around him. But now, it's pointless. It's a pointless game at a pointless school full of pointless people living a pointless life. Everything is so meaningless now. So stupid. A waste. He wishes that he could hate the other students, getting on with their lives as though the war never happened and people that they loved hadn't died. But he can't. Because he understands. He understands that they are okay. He gets that for most of them, the only hard part of the war was the Battle of Hogwarts. But for Harry, his friends - they played a harder role. They were the sole of the war, the core of it. They bled and died for it. And yet, even Ron and Hermione don't quite get it. Yes, they both suffered. They both lost people they loved. But, they didn't feel Voldemort like he did. They never had him living inside of them, breathing down their neck, being a part of their very being. Only one other person ever felt the closeness of Voldemort like Harry did. Draco.

He shivers. How he and Draco Malloy have become such good friends is beyond him. All he knows is that he needs the Slytherin boy like he needs air. When Draco is around, the pain and emptiness subsides and he feels as though he can breathe again.

Speak of the devil. Harry spots Draco walking across the pitch, the harsh wind whipping at his robes and causing his hair to blow wildly. He climbs up to the stands, walking until he is directly in front of Harry. He smiles. Harry smiles back, the tightness in his chest lessening.

"Come on," Draco says. "You can't stay here all night."

Harry laughs. "That's debatable."

Draco shakes his head, his lips remaining in an upward curve. "Well, it's freezing and I'm hungry. Hermione said if we aren't there in 10 minutes, she's coming to get us."

Harry stands. "We best be going then."

They wander together towards the Great Hall, both drenched. Once inside the building, Draco magic’s them both dry. He reaches out, trying to smooth down Harry's hair. Harry bites his lip, enjoying the feeling of Draco's fingers running through his hair. The other boy pauses, meeting Harry's gaze. He swallows hard, not dropping his hands.

"That's the best I can do."

They stare at each other for a few moments, and Harry can tell from the look in Draco's eyes that he is thinking about Christmas morning. They had woken up together, wrapped in each other's embrace and a heated look in each of their eyes. They had remained like that, locked together in an anything other than platonic embrace, both desperate for contact. Then, as though awakening from a dream, they had let go. Ever since, a careful distance had developed between them. Touching became limited. The time they spend alone together has decreased. And now... now, standing alone in the corridor, Draco's hands in his hair, Harry wants nothing more than to pull the other boy to him and press their lips together in a passionate kiss. And, if that thought doesn't half scare him. Harry has never fancied a boy before. But Draco isn't just a boy. He's Harry's salvation.

The door to the Great Hall opens and the boys step apart hurriedly, both turning to meet Hermione's smug gaze.

"I was just coming to find you. Ron is concerned that Draco decided to hex you, Harry. Honestly, when will he grow up."

They all fall silent for a moment. After all, they've all grown up a heck of a lot over the past year. They had too.

"I'm starved," Harry says in order to break the silence. "Let’s go eat."

They step back into the hall together. Ron looks relieved to see them.

"You're alive. Good."

Harry rolls his eyes, grabbing a roll from the table and tucking in. Draco shoots him a look of disgust at his eating habits. Harry just grins around his food, causing Draco to shudder. Hermione scowls, slapping his shoulder lightly.

"Manners!"

Harry chortles. Ron grins. Draco and Hermione share a look, clearly communicating their horror at the two boys lack of public decency. Harry smiles to himself. At least here, surrounded by the people he loves, he can pretend that the last few years’ events never happened. He can pretend that he is just a normal boy. Young, carefree and alive.

 

****

 

Draco scowls as Pansy, Blaise and Theodore corner him in the common room. The rest of the returning 7thyears are at Hogsmeade but the Slytherin’s had decided to stay behind. Draco, because he needed time away from Harry to clear his head and control his emotions. The others, well, apparently because they wanted to interrogate him. Pansy sits beside him, reaching up to gently play with his hair. He scowls, pushing her hands away and turns to look at her, shooting her a bored ‘what the hell do you want’ look. Blaise sits on his other side, staring at him with an unblinking, kind of spooky expression. Theo sits on a chair on the other side of the room, crossing his legs and staring into the fireplace, frowning in thought. Blaise taps Draco, turning his attention from Pansy.

“What?” Draco asks, scowling even more severely. Sometimes he misses the fear and idle obedience that his fellow students had towards him. Wouldn’t it be nice for them to obey him like they once had? But then he shivers, thinking of the person he was before the war and the things he did in order to survive. He shakes his head slightly, forcing himself to focus on Blaise.

The other boy pats his shoulder as he talks. Draco shrugs it off, annoyed.

“We are worried about you.”  
Now Draco really does role his eyes, fed up. Of course. This was because he has befriended Harry Potter and his tribe of Gryffindor’s.

“We know that things are different now. Because of the war…” Pansy says, gently taking his hand in hers. “But we are worried about you, Draco. You seem awfully cozy with Potter, Weasley and Granger. And, not that it’s a bad thing, because, you know, we need the other witches and wizards to see us integrate and put aside our prejudice, and who better to be seen with than the Golden Trio? But you hated them, more than any of us ever did. And after everything with your father and- and Voldemort and the Death Eaters, well, we just don’t want to see you get hurt or do something that will end up hurting… others.”

Draco looks down at their entwined fingers, swallowing as he thinks over what she said. None of his friends know that he is in love with Harry, has been for years. His display of hatred was good enough to trick them all. To blind them from the truth. But now… he shakes his head. No. He can’t tell them. They’d never understand.

“I just,” he begins, squeezing Pansy’s hand lightly, “want to be different. I want to start over, you know? After everything… I just want the chance to be someone else. Without all the hatred. Don’t you think there has been enough hate?”  
Theo snorts then and the other three turn to look at him. He looks away from the fire, smirking at them.

“Honestly. You sound like a bunch of Hufflepuffs. ‘No evil’ and ‘let’s all skip around the campfire singing peace songs’!” He shakes his head, laughing bitterly. “How can you all have changed so much? Just because we lost the war, doesn’t mean we have to cave in and be so pathetic. It doesn’t mean that we have to push aside our beliefs. A Mudblood is still a Mudblood. Granger is still a Mudblood.”  
Draco feels the anger inside of him burn, as though a match has been struck and lit a fuse inside of him.

“Don’t talk about her that way,” he growls, fists clenching. Pansy runs her hands up his arm and squeezes his shoulder, trying to calm him.

Theo just laughs louder. “Draco, the Mudblood lover. What has the world come too. What happened to Pureblood supremacy? What happened to dirty half-bloods? What happened to you all?”  
Blaise frowns, horror in his eyes. “Surely you don’t still believe all that, Theo? Voldemort was wrong. Everything was wrong.”

Theo looks back at the fire. “You’re just saying that because Voldemort lost. If Potter hadn’t killed him - if it had been the other way around – we would all be groveling at the feet of Voldemort, obeying his every word. Because we believe in his values and goals. But now,” he scoffs, bitter, “now Draco here is sucking up to the Golden Trio, like a pathetic Mudblood.”  
They sit in silence, stunned by the words tumbling from Theo’s mouth. Draco is horrified that Theo would still think this way, after _everything._ Standing, he breathes heavily, trying to contain his anger.

“There is nothing wrong with not being a Pureblood. And if you want to follow a self-helping, bloodsucking, bastard who didn’t give a damn about anyone but his self, then by all means, continuing following Voldemort’s example. But I know that I would rather die than be anything like him. I saw what he did. He lived at my freakin house. I did things you would never be able to imagine, because he asked me to. And I regret it every day.” He lifts up his shirt sleeve, revealing his mark. “I have to have this for the rest of my life, because of that bastard. So by all means, remain a Voldemort lover, Theo. But I will have no part in it.”

With that, he turns on his heel and flees the common room. He dashes through the castle, angry and upset, tears threatening to spill over. He stumbles outside, passing the returning students. Harry sees him and concern floods his face. Draco ignores him and runs faster. He hears Harry call his name, following him, but he blocks it out and heads straight for the shed where the school brooms are kept. He snatches one and takes off into the sky, the cold, damp air hitting him hard. He gasps out choked breathes as he bolts through the air. He dives and loops dangerously, taking out his anger and frustration. Theo's words have unlocked memories he has been trying to keep buried and he can't help the unwanted thoughts flooding his mind. Images from the last few years play over in his mind like a movie. No. He thinks. Get out. Leave me alone. No, no, no! He is so caught up in his thoughts that he doesn't realize that he has flown too close to the ground and too near the Forbidden Forest. The broom catches on a tree root and he goes flying. He lands on his back with a heavy thud, pain shooting up his spine. Shakily, he pushes himself up into a sitting position and turns to lean back against a tree. Then he starts to cry. Heart wrenching sobs shake his body as he struggles to breathe. He hates how weak he is, but he can't seem to be able to stop himself. He rolls the sleeve of his shirt up with trembling fingers and rubs them over the ugly mark branding his flesh. Whilst it has faded to a scar with Voldemort death, it is still there, clear against his pale skin. With a determined breath, he tugs out his wand and points it at the mark. Whilst he knows that there is no spell to remove the Dark Mark, he has to try. Even if the spells have absolutely no relation to the mark.

"Evanesco!" He yells.

Nothing happens. He tries it again, his voice slightly choked due to his crying. Still nothing.

"Incendio!" Flames shoot from the wand and Ignite his arm, the fire licking at his flesh. He gasps in pain, but holds on for a few more moments before putting out the fire. Still, whilst the flesh around the mark is frazzled and stinging, the mark itself remains untouched.

"Tergeo!" The oozing liquid soaking in his burns vanishes, but nothing else changes. He stares down at his burnt arm and swallows as the mark stands tall and proud on his flesh.

He calms himself slightly, staring down at his injured arm. The pain is intense. But he deserves it. After everything he did, he deserves the worst kind of pain.

"Cruc-"

The wand is knocked from his hand before he can finish the spell. Warm arms are wrapping around him and soft lips are pressed to his ear, whispering soothing words as a hand gently cards through his hair. Draco absorbs Harry's scent, his warmth, his presence.

"It's okay. It is. I promise," Harry murmurs.

Draco shakes his head and pushes Harry away, silent tears falling as he manages to get a grip over his body. "How is it going to be okay?" He demands. "Nothing is going to be okay!" He points at his arm where the mark is still visible, despite his efforts. "This is never going to go away! This brands me forever as a disgusting, cowardly muggle hating bastard! There is no escaping the past! Nothing is ever going to be okay." He quietens then, the tears on his cheeks silent as he brushes a thumb over the ugly brand. "I hate him," he whispers. "I hate me."

Harry looks devastated. His face has gone deathly pale and he appears to be trembling. Draco watches as he reaches into his coat and pulls out his hand. He lets Harry brush his fingers over his burnt flesh and then point his wand at the wound and whisper "Episkey."

Draco stares as his arm heals, leaving behind only the mark, nothing else. Harry puts his wand away and gently cups Draco's face in his warm hands.

"You aren't the same person that you used to be, Draco," Harry whispers. "The past is the past, even when it seems hard to believe and to escape. But it's all over. Voldemort is dead. We're free. Both of us. We just need to learn how to live with it." Harry gently traces the dark mark with his fingers. "This is a part of you. I don't hate it. I could never hate anything about you. Not now."

Draco stares at the other boy, his heart racing. Harry doesn't hate it. Harry, who has more right to detest it - to detest him - than anyone else on this planet. Draco wraps his arms around Harry in a fierce hug, burying his face in the curve of the other boys neck. Harry returns the gesture, clinging on just as tightly. His heart swells with love and longing. He has wanted Harry since they were kids, from the moment he was old enough to understand what the butterflies in his stomach really meant. And whilst he might not have Harry quite where he wants him, he at least has _something._ Neither says anything for a long time.

Eventually, Draco pulls back from Harry, calmer and more in control of his emotions.

"Thank you," he whispers.

Harry gently brushes Draco's hair from his face. "You're welcome."

Harry helps him stand, picking up both of their brooms. Draco glances around then, realizing for the first time just how far into the Forbidden Forest he had flown. It is dark and cold, the rain unable to reach them due to the thick canopy of leaves. He swallows.

"Harry, do you know where we are? How to get out?"

Harry's eyes widen at the question and Draco watches in horror as Harry's gaze darts frantically around them. No, He realizes. Harry doesn't know where they are. He wants to kick himself. This is his fault. If he hadn't flown off in his too emotional mindset... if he'd stopped and spoken to Harry when the boy first called his name....

Harry, like always, seems to be able to read his mind, as he leans over and lightly placed his hand on Draco's shoulder.

"It's not your fault."

Draco shoots him a grateful smile. The grin he receives in return is blinding. Beautiful, he thinks. He doesn't think he'll ever get over the overwhelming feeling he has every time Harry smiles like that. Beautiful.

 

*****

Harry reaches out to hold Draco's hand, refusing to let go. The forest is pitch black and he can barely see anything. He hands one of the brooms to Draco, keeping the other firmly in his grip.

"We can't be too far from the edge," he says thoughtfully. "We weren't flying for that long."

He continues walking in the direction he is vaguely sure they entered from. Draco's hand feels warm in his and it sends shivers through his body. Pushing away his thoughts, he focuses on their surroundings. Harry is no stranger to the Forbidden Forest. He knows the creatures that live here are no friends of his - at least, most of them aren't. Suddenly, Harry trips on a tree root and falls flat on his face. He lets out a breathless gasp. Draco is at his side in an instant, helping him to his feet,

“Are you okay?” The blond asks, brushing at Harry’s robes. He pushes Draco’s hands away, nodding.

“Yeah. Thanks.”  
Then he frowns. “Do you hear that?”

Draco pauses, listens, then shakes his head. “Hear what?”  
Then both boy’s tense as there is a cracking of sticks and a dark figure appears in front of them. Harry relaxes immediately, but Draco remains stiff, a petrified expression on his face. Harry nods at the centaur, trying to appear friendly. The creature huffs.

“Harry Potter. You should not be in the forest. It isn’t safe.”

Harry frowns. “The forest is never safe.”  
The centaur shakes its head. “These are dark times. Voldemort might be dead and the war may be over, but there are still dark forces out there that want you dead.”  
Harry swallows. “Death eaters?”

Draco tenses even further at that. Harry squeezes his hand lightly, letting him know it’s okay.

The centaur glances around, before leaning in closer. “There are people at Hogwarts that want justice. You are not safe.”  
Harry winces at that. At Hogwarts? But surely… Voldemort is dead. Who or what could possibly be at Hogwarts, waiting to kill him? And if they want to, why haven’t they tried already? He has been unguarded, defenseless… unless.

“Someone wants something from me, don’t they? Something from the war, something to do with Voldemort?”  
He doesn’t know what, but it’s all that he can think of. The centaur steps back then, nodding in a direction.

“That’s the way out of the Forest. I can’t tell you anymore. But you must not enter the Forest again.”  
Harry tugs on Draco’s hand, moving in the direction the centaur gestured at. “Thank you,” he says, before turning away and hurriedly pulling Draco through the trees. Sure enough, several minutes later they make it out of the forest and Harry lets out a sigh of relief.

Draco doesn’t look relieved though. He looks anything but. “What did it mean?” he asks. “Who could possibly want you dead _now?”_  
Harry shakes his head. “I don’t know. They must want something from me before they kill em though, otherwise they would have done it by now.”  
he glances up at the Hogwarts building, frowning. He should have known that everything was going far too well to be true.

“Draco, we need to talk to the Headmistress. Now.”  
  


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

 

 

Harry winces at the outraged expression sporting Headmistress McGonagall’s face.

"I'm horrified," she exclaims, "by both of you! Wandering around the Forbidden Forest! Have you learnt nothing? Nothing! After everything you have been through, you still have to seek out trouble. When are you going to start looking after yourself, Mr Potter?"

Beside him, Draco swallows hard. "Headmistress," he begins. Harry elbows him. Draco shuts up. Good, Harry thinks. He doesn't want Draco taking the blame for this.

McGonagall shakes her head. She sighs heavily. "So the centaur said someone is in Hogwarts, trying to kill you?"

Harry nods. "He said ‘Voldemort might be dead and the war may be over, but there are still dark forces out there that want you dead.’”

Headmistress McGonagall rubs her temple tiredly. "Thank you, boys. You may go. And Harry? Stay out of trouble. Just this once."

He nods solemnly. "I'll try." It's the best that he can do.

The two boys exit her office and pause outside the door, staring at each other. Draco winces slightly. "Is this how it always is for you? Mad people trying to kill you and late night meetings with teachers?"

Harry shrugs. "Pretty much. I'll tell you about it sometime."

Then he reaches out and takes Draco's hand in his. They walk back towards the tower together when they round a corner and bump into Ginny. She hesitates, looks down and sees them holding hands. Her face drops and Harry realises, a fraction too late, what Ginny thinks she has discovered.

"You said no one," she accuses. But there is no heat to it and her voice is colourless. "You said you weren't able to have a relationship because of the war. But you meant with me, didn't you. You meant you couldn't have a relationship with me."

Harry drops Draco's hand and steps up to the girl, placing his hands on her shoulders and running them down her arms until he takes her hands in his. They may have broken up and they might not have been speaking, but above all else, before the dating and the romance, Ginny was his friend and she always will be.

"I'm not with Draco. I truly meant - still do - what I said. I'm not ready for a relationship. Draco and I," he hesitates. "He's my friend. A good friend. That's it."

He doesn't see the hurt expression on Draco's face and the conflict of emotions displayed throughout his body. Ginny does though. She swallows and a petty, envious angry emotion slithers through her like a snake. She tugs on Harry's hands, pulling him towards her and presses her lips harshly against his. Harry remains frozen, shocked, before pulling away from her.

"Ginny..."

She smirks. "I knew it. You might only feel friendship towards Draco Malfoy. But he is definitely in love with you."

Harry scoffs, about to tell her she's mad, when he notices that the blond is nowhere to be seen. Hastily, he turns on his heel and dashes after him, skidding to a halt when he rounds a corner to find Draco sat on a window ledge, staring out of the window with tears streaming down his cheeks. His one knee is pulled up to his chest whilst the other is stretched out straight. His arms rest over his bent knee. Harry gingerly makes his way towards him, confused as to why his friend is so distraught.

"Draco?"

The other boy glances at Harry before staring down at his knees and wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand. Harry steps closer, kneeling beside the window seat and placing a hand on Draco's knee. Draco shoots him a weak, tired smile.

"I'm okay Harry. Really. It's just been a long day. The Forbidden Forest, the spells, your ex being an idiot. I'm just so... tired."

Harry scans his face. Whilst he looks earnest, honest, his eyes hold a hollowness and sadness to them. He can't shake the feeling that he's missing something. Something big. Something important. But he can't grasp what it is. So he stands, grabbing Draco's hand to pull him to his feet. However, the Slytherin shoots up, Harry miscalculating how much force he needed to use. Draco stumbles, ramming into Harry's chest and letting out a light huff of surprise. His hands automatically grasp at Harry's shoulders and he pulls back slightly, stopping as Harry's hands slide to his waist and hold him tightly. They stay like that for a brief moment, before both boys let go, blushing scarlet. Harry’s heart starts racing. Without realising what he’s doing, his eyes drop to Draco’s lips and his breath hitches as he stares at them. All he wants is to lean in and press his own to the boys in front of him. He wants to wrap his arms around Draco and hold him close. He wants to tell him the truth. To admit his secret crush, to have Draco smile at him and admit to liking him back. But, of course, Harry doesn’t say or do any of that. Because there is no way that Draco could possibly ever like him back. So he steps back, clearing his throat.

“Come on. It’s been a long day. I’m tired. And you’re exhausted. Let’s sleep.”

They wander back to the dorm together and when Draco slips into Harry’s bed when all the others are safely oblivious behind their bed curtains, well, Harry doesn’t mind one bit.

 

 

*****

 

 

Draco smirks as Harry sits down on the floor in the common room. He is sitting directly in front of Draco, who is sprawled on the couch. Harry leans back between Draco’s open legs and rests his head against the inner thigh of Draco’s right leg. Draco lets his fingers fall into Harry’s mop of hair and grins as the raven haired boy practically purrs, closing his eyes and sagging into Draco even more. The Weasel scoffs, eyeing them sourly. Hermione glares, punching her boyfriend’s shoulder before flashing Draco a happy smile and a teasing wink. Draco smiles back, feeling content and happy. Hermione slams her book shut then and they all jump, Harry’s eyes shooting open. However, he doesn’t pull away and it comforts Draco. The young witch sighs.

“I don’t mean to dampen the mood, but we really do need to talk about what you learnt in the forest last week.”

Weasel huffs and mutters something, that causes Hermione to glare fiercely and exclaim, “Stop being an arse, Ronald.”

Harry sighs. “What is there to discuss? Someone wants me dead. What’s knew. We just need to see what happens. Besides, it’ll be an ex Death Eater. Obviously a Voldemort supporter would want me dead.”

Hermione shakes her head slowly. “But you said that the centaur said someone in Hogwarts.”

Harry lulls his head even further back and looks up at Draco, pulling a face, before looking back at Hermione. “Well, yes, Obviously someone who supports the Death Eaters. Or maybe someone using polyjuice potion, like Barty Crouch in 4th year. Look, who cares. We can’t do anything until someone makes a move. So just enjoy the silence, ‘Mione.”

The witch doesn’t look pleased by this, but she lets it go. At that moment, Pansy and Blaise wander into the common room and see them. Blaise turns to go, but Pansy grips his sleeve and drags him over to the Golden Trio and Draco. Draco raises an eyebrow at his friends. Pansy coughs, clearing her throat.

“Hi,” she says. “Look, Weasley, Granger. Potter. I know we aren’t friends or anything, but Draco and Harry have gotten close,” she looks pointedly at them, “and as Draco’s best friends, Blaise and I” - Blaise shoots her a confused look - “have decided that we ought to make an effort as well. So, truce.”

With that, she squeezes onto the couch beside Hermione and stares at her lap, looking completely and utterly out of place. Blaise splutters, but sits beside her, scowling.

The Gryffindors stare at each other for a moment before Harry sits up straighter and eyes Pansy, a wicket glint in his eyes. It makes Draco nervous.

"Say, Pansy," Harry starts. Draco doesn't know whether he wants to pull the boy into his arms and kiss him as a thanks for talking to his friends or punch him in the face for whatever evil thing the boy is about to do. Because Draco knows that expression on the love of his life's face and he knows that the end results will not be good for himself.

"Got anything good you can tell us about Draco? Secrets, funny stories, embarrassing moments?"

Pansy smirks. "Oh honey, I could write a novel on Draco here if you so desired. But between you and me, most of the exciting things in his life revolve around you."

Harry looks surprised at that. "Around me?"

He looks so adorably confused, it makes Draco's insides turn to mush.

"Yes," Pansy continues. "Draco is very much obsessed with you. He always has been. Can't be healthy. Of course, he used to hate you. He wouldn't shut up about how much he hated you. Now he won't shut up about what an amazing person you are. Honestly, he has issues."

Draco scowls, inside slowly dying. He wishes the floor would swallow him. He wishes he could hex Pansy right now, wipe that smug look off her stupid face, but one of  the rules of the new unity campaign nonsense is no spells on each other - expulsion being the punishment for it. However, the embarrassment fades slightly when Harry turns and grins at him, his hair sticking up and eyes sparkling behind his glasses. Draco wants to kiss him. He thinks he might, too, despite their friends sitting around them. But he doesn't get the chance as Hermione stands suddenly, grabbing Ron's hand and smiling.

"Harry has always been obsessed with Draco too. Honestly, their pathetic, the both of them."

She turns to Pansy. "Sorry, must dash. I have to study. Ronald and I will be in the library."

They leave the room quickly. Pansy sighs, looking over at Blaise, who is staring at her. She shrugs. "What?"

He shakes his head. "Can we go eat now? I'm starved."

Pansy giggles. "Oh, alright." She glances over at Draco and Harry. "See you love birds later."

Then they too leave the room. Harry blushes at the statement and Draco swallows, horrified that Pansy has realised his crush on Harry. So far only Hermione knows. But if his friends find out... He shakes his head.

Harry yawns then and Draco laughs lightly, getting them both to their feet.

"Come on, nap time," he says, guiding Harry up the stairs and to the dorm. He helps take off Harry's robes and tie, before removing his own and climbing in beside him. Harry glances over at Draco and smiles slightly.

"You really are amazing, Draco," he whispers.

Draco doesn't stop smiling for a long time.

 

***********

 

Harry groans, rolling over in his bed only to yelp when he lands half on top of Draco. He blinks blearily, confused. Why on earth is Draco Malfoy in his bed? Then, as he slowly starts to wake up, he remembers. It’s after the war. Voldemort is dead. Draco is his friend. Harry is in love with him. He shuffles closer, nuzzling his face into the crook of Draco’s neck and sprawls his limbs around him like an octopus. Then he freezes. Did he seriously just think that he is in love with Draco?

“Harry, what are you doing?” Draco grumbles, trying unsuccessfully to pluck Harry’s limbs from him.

Harry grins. He’s in love with Draco Malfoy. He really is! He pushes himself up onto his elbows so that he can see Draco’s face. The blond stares up at him, his expression carefully guarded. Harry chews his lip, his fingers playing with the strands of Draco’s hair at the nape of his neck. Does Draco like me back, he wonders. He thinks about everything that has happened since the year began. There was the Room of Requirement. The smiles and the laughing. Christmas Eve. The bed sharing. He knows that he would never normally share a bed with his friends. He imagines it with Ron and winces at the thought.

“Harry?” Draco says again, more awake.

Taking a deep breath, Harry leans down and presses his lips to Draco’s cheek, before dropping his head back onto the other boys shoulder and mumbling “Good morning,” his face scarlet.

Draco remains silent, frozen, before he finally replies. "Morning." Then he yells, sitting up and shoving Harry off of him. He stares at Harry wide eyed. "It isn't morning! We were napping. What time is it?"

Harry's eyes widen as he casts a quick Tempus. "Supper is nearly over. Come on! Otherwise we'll miss it!"

They both scramble from the bed, yanking their robes and ties on hastily, along with their shoes. Draco tries to go to the mirror to fix his hair, but Harry grabs his hand and shakes his head.

"No time. Besides, your hair looks perfect." Personally, Harry prefers it like this to when it is gelled back and neat. They run from the dorm, hand in hand, only stopping to pant and let each other go as they reach the Great Hall. They catch their breath, before pushing the door open and stepping inside. Everyone is already eating and they quickly make their way over to their table. As they approach, passing the Hufflepuff table, people start to whisper and stare. Soon, nearly everyone is looking at them. Harry frowns, sitting down and tugging Draco next to him. He looks over at Hermione, who is openly staring along with the rest.

"Why are you all staring?" He whispers. "Surely everyone is used to Draco and I being friends by now."

Hermione shakes her head. "It's not that," she coughs. "You, uh, you're wearing the wrong ties."

Sure enough, Harry glances down and sees a green, Slytherin tie where his Gryffindor tie ought to be. He looks over and sees it around Draco's neck. Both boys blush severely. But then Harry manages to get a grip and he smiles proudly.

"Well, our year is all about unity, isn't it? Acceptance of each other. Besides." He looks down at the tie again before meeting Draco's intense gaze, "I think the green suites me. After all, I was supposed to be in Slytherin in the first place."

Draco’s eyes widen in surprise and he leans closer to Harry, resting his elbow on the table, his head in his hand as he eyes Harry slowly. “Really?”

Harry giggles, actually giggles. “Yep. But I asked the Sorting Hat to put me anywhere but Slytherin, so I got Gryffindor.”

Draco chews his lip, before asking, “Why not Slytherin?”

Harry can sense the hush that falls around them as the curious onlookers strain to hear his reply.

“I had just discovered I was a wizard. The only thing I knew about anything was that some lunatic from Slytherin murdered my parents.” He shrugs. “If I’d know what I know now, I would have been proud to be put in Slytherin.”

There is a collective gasp at that, but Harry ignores it. He just has eyes for Draco, who is looking at him with a mixture of awe and something else that Harry can’t quite put his finger on. He reaches under the table, interlacing his fingers with Draco’s and gives his hand a light squeeze. Draco smiles softly then, his eyes locked on Harry. He is vaguely aware of Hermione and Ron whispering to him, as well as the rest of the schools eyes fixed on them. But he doesn’t care. All he cares about is Draco. He knows, right then and there, that Draco is it for him. He determines that the next moment that they are alone, he will tell him. He’ll press his lips to Draco’s and whisper the words to him, sweet and simple. Now he just needs to get up the courage to follow through with it. 

 

 

 

Getting Draco alone is a lot harder than Harry had anticipated. They are constantly surrounded by other students, in the common room, the bedroom, classes. And Draco seems to be actively avoiding being alone with him. Three days after his realization, he manages to corner Draco, but, instead of confessing his love, he freaks out. Draco stares back at him, his eyes open and waiting. Harry swallows. “I- I…”

Draco smiles softly, affection clear in his face. “Yes, Harry?”

Breathe, Harry. “I wanted to say… do you want to go to a Roxette concert with me this weekend?” He blurts out.

Draco raises an eyebrow. “Roxette?”

Harry winces. Idiot. “A muggle band. They’re really good.”  
Harry has two tickets safely hidden in the dorm. He’d been planning on taking Hermione, who also happens to love the band, but he’s sure she’ll understand. Besides, he hadn’t invited her yet. He watches Draco anxiously as he awaits a reply. Draco seems to be assessing him, a sort of confused expression on his face.

“Harry, are you – I mean, is this a…?” Draco trails off, his cheeks flushed.

Harrys eyes widen when he realizes what Draco is hinting at. “Is this a date, do you mean?” He asks, trying to be confident, but inside he is a nervous wreck.

Draco’s cheeks turn an even darker shade of red. Harry bites his lip, before sighing. “It is, if you want it to be.”

Please, he begs silently. Please like me back.

Draco swallows, his adams apple bobbing. “Okay.”  
Harry perks up. “Okay?”  
Draco nods, a small, embarrassed smile tugging at his lips. “Okay.”

Unable to help himself, Harry throws his arms around Draco, pulling him into a firm hug. Thank Merlin. He presses a quick kiss to Draco’s cheek, grinning contently. Draco grins back. Now, Harry just needs to figure out how to break the news to Ron and Hermione.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hermione squeals gleefully when Harry informs her and Ron, later that evening, of his forth coming date with Draco. She throws her arms around him, before stepping back, positively glowing. Ron looks slightly peaky, but he smiles at Harry with a gentle warmth in his eyes. His friends are happy for him, and the angry reaction he had expected does not seem to be coming. Hermione shakes her head when he tells them he’d thought they’d be upset.

“Harry,” she says gently, “the reason Draco and I started talking was because I figured out that he liked you.”  
Harry gawks at her. “What?”  
She laughs lightly. “Remember when I was wearing Amortenia?”

Both boys nod.

“Well, I bumped into Draco and he said that I stunk like you, Harry.”

Realization dawns on Harry. “The notes during class.”

She nods. “Yep. He’s liked you for ages. I’m so glad you finally asked him out.”  
Harry blushes. “Well, uh, I didn’t. Not really. I mean, I asked him to the concert as a friend and he read more into it, so I went along with it. I mean, I love him, so yeah.”

Ron chokes. “Love? No one said anything about love.”

Harry blushes harder. “I do though,” he replies, determined. “I love him.”  
Hermione hugs him again, excitement radiating off of her. “I’m so happy for you, Harry. So happy.”  
Harry hugs her back, an uncontainable smile stretched across his face. “Yeah,” he whispers, “me too.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry that it has been so long. Life has been busy and I lost motivation. I promise that I haven't abandoned this fic, but updates will be slower than I hoped. I hope you enjoy the new chapter, even though it is short (I'm sorry)   
> As always, your comments are very much appreciated!
> 
> The songs in this chapter are all by the amazing band Roxette. I didn't write them nor do I own them or the characters.

**Chapter Seven**

Taking Draco to a muggle concert is an experience Harry never knew that he needed. He grins delightedly as Draco stares, horrified, at the muggles who are all dressed in bizarre clothing and close to tears due to the overwhelming excitement. Draco turns to Harry, his eyes wide. His expression draws a laugh from Harry, who, unable to help himself, leans forward and presses a kiss to Draco’s cheek. Draco blushes scarlet, but a soppy smile spreads across his face. Harry slips his hand in Draco’s.

They move forward in the queue, stepping through security and scanning their tickets. Draco scans the throng of people nervously, but Harry can see the excitement in his gaze. Harry leans into him, whispering in his ear, “You are adorable.”

Draco scowls, but the tips of his ears are red. “I am not! I’m an ex Death Eater!”Harry just grins widely, shaking his head. Adorable. They slowly make their way into the building, managing to get fairly close to the stage. Draco’s grip on Harry’s hand is tight, firm. Harry watches Draco, who is staring in amazement at the muggles. He feels a rush of affection for Draco and he grins widely, overwhelmed by the love he has for Draco. He wants to tell him, but it’s too soon. He doesn’t know how much Draco likes him, or for how long. It’s silly, really. Obviously they like each other. He doesn’t know why it took him so long to figure out. The way he feels around Draco is unlike anything he’s ever experienced. He only hopes that Draco feels the same.

The lights drop and excited, nearly hysterical screams flood the arena. Draco winces.

“Why are they screaming?” he asks.

Harry grins. “Because it’s a concert, Draco. All anyone does is scream.” He chuckles as he says this.

Loud, pounding music floods the arena. The crowd shrieks louder. Draco yelps and squeezes Harry’s hand, causing him to burst into a fit of giggles. The opening chords of _Sleeping in My Car_ bursts out of the speakers. The audience goes wild as the band steps onto the stage, Marie Fredriksson and Per Gessle in the front. Harry feels giddy. “It’s them, Draco!” He yells excitedly, jumping up and down. “Merlin!”

They step up to the mic’s and their voices echo across the arena.

 

_I'll tell you what I've done_

_I'll tell you what I'll do_

_Been driving all night just to get close to you_

_Baby babe, I'm moving so fast_

_You'd better come on_

 

Harry sings along loudly, the rest of the crowd bellowing too.

 

_The moon is alright_

_The freeway's heading south_

_My heart is going "boom!"_

_There's a strange taste in my mouth_

_Baby babe, I'm moving real fast_

_So try to hold on_

_Yeah, try to hold on!_

_Sleeping in my car, I will undress you_

_Sleeping in my car, I will caress you_

_Staying in the back seat of my car_

_Making up, oh oh ..._

_So come out tonight_

_I'll take you for a ride_

_This steamy ol' wagon_

_The radio is getting wild_

_Baby babe, we're moving so fast_

_I try to hang on_

_I try to hang on_

_Sleeping in my car, I will undress you_

_Sleeping in my car, I will caress you_

_Staying in the back seat of my car_

_Making love, oh yea!_

_Sleeping in my car, I will possess you_

_Sleeping in my car, certainly bless you_

_Laying in the back seat of my car_

_Making up, oh oh ..._

_The night is so pretty and so young_

_The night is so pretty and so young_

_So very young ..._

_Sleeping in my car, I will undress you_

_Sleeping in my car, I will caress you_

_Staying in the back seat of my car_

_Making love ... to you!_

_Sleeping in my car, I will possess you_

_Sleeping in my car, certainly bless you_

_Laying in the back seat of my car_

_Making up, making love ..._

_Sleeping in my car, I will undress you_

_Sleeping in my car_

_The night is so pretty and so young_

_Yeah_

He catches Draco’s eyes on him, He raises an eyebrow. “What?” He yells over the music.

Draco flushes. “You have a beautiful voice.”

Harry laughs delightedly and presses a sloppy kiss to Draco’s cheek. Draco pulls a disgusted face, wiping his wet cheek, but a happy blush coats his cheeks and a small smile manages to make an appearance. Harry places an arm over Draco’s shoulders and starts to sway slightly when the band starts playing _It Must Have Been Love._ Draco rests his head on Harry’s shoulder, sighing contently. A few more songs breeze by, but neither moves. Harry breathes in Draco’s closeness, bursting inside. Several songs later, Draco pulls back slightly, smiling at Harry. Harry’s breath catches in his throat. He’s beautiful. So damn beautiful. The moment ends when _Joyride_ blasts out, shaking Harry from his daze. He grins, jumping with the rest of the crowd and singing loudly. Draco joins in with the chorus, managing to pick up the lyrics easily. The concert soars by and soon enough the final song begins to play.

 

_Babe_ __  
Come in from the cold  
And put that coat to rest  
Step inside  
Take a deep breath  
And do what you do best  
Yeah  
Kick off them shoes  
And leave those city streets  
I do believe  
Love came our way  
And fate did arrange  
For us to meet

As the song plays, Harry grins, tugging Draco in front of him and slipping his arms around Draco’s waist. He rests his head on Draco’s shoulder and holds the other boy closely to him. They sway together, Harry singing softly in Draco’s ear.

 

_I love when you do_ __  
That hocus-pocus to me  
The way that you touch  
You've got the power to heal  
You give me that look  
It's almost unreal  
It's almost unreal

As the chorus plays again, Draco suddenly turns in Harry’s arms and presses his lips to Harry’s in a quick kiss. Harry blinks slowly when Draco pulls back, staring at him in shock. Then a slow smile spreads across his face and he gently cups Draco’s cheeks in his palms. He leans in, pressing a longer, deeper kiss to Draco’s soft mouth. Draco’s arms snake up around Harry’s neck and they press into each other, gasping. A fire unlike anything Harry has ever felt before grows in his belly and spreads through his body. He pulls Draco impossibly closer, desperate for more contact, and only when someone around them falls into Draco, causing them to stumble slightly, do they pull apart. They stare at each other, both breathing deeply, their faces flushed, as the music around them plays.

 

_Yea come on and do the hocus pocus to me._  
The way that you touch, you've got the power to heal.  
You give me that look, it's almost unreal. It's almost unreal, yea.

 

****

 

Harry doesn’t know how they make it back to school. He can’t let go of Draco for more than a second, desperate to keep contact. Draco seems to be feeling the same way, clinging to Harry with everything that he has. Somehow they make it to the dorms and, after undressing, they slip into Harry’s bed – agreeing without words.

Harry sighs contently as he curls up to Draco, resting his head on the blonde’s chest. Draco’s arm curls around his back, his fingers playing with the hair at the nape of Harry’s neck. Harry closes his eyes, absorbing the feeling of love and peace. He presses a gentle kiss to Draco’s chest. Then he stretches up, kissing Draco’s collar bone. Then his throat. Harry’s lips dance across Draco’s skin, kissing a path from his neck to his jaw. He pushes up onto one of his elbows so that he is hovering slightly above Draco.

Draco’s eyes are closed, his face flushed a beautiful scarlet. Harry reaches out with one hand, his fingers brushing over Draco’s cheek. He chews his lip, watching as Draco’s lips part slightly, his breath coming out in short spurts. Beautiful, he thinks. Draco is so beautiful; it makes Harry physically ache. He stares at Draco in awe. His light hair is ruffled and mused in a way that is so contradictory to his usual put togetherness. His eyelids flutter and he licks his pink lips. Harry gasps softly. He leans closer, his breath fanning Draco’s face.

“Please, Harry,” Draco whispers, reaching up a hand to fist it in Harry’s t-shirt.

Unable to resist, Harry leans all the way in and presses his lips to Draco’s soft mouth. It’s their second kiss, he thinks to himself, before his brain turns into mush and all that matters is the feel of their mouths, pressing and pushing, their bodies alight everywhere that they touch. Emotions Harry has never felt before rage through his veins as his hands slide beneath Draco’s t-shirt, pressing their bodies closer together as they roll on the bed, limbs a tangled mess.

“H-Harry,” Draco moans out when Harry starts sucking on Draco’s throat.

Harry pulls back, hot and breathless. They stare at each other, both wide eyed and flushed.

“Draco,” Harry says. Just because.

Draco curls his arms and legs around Harry, like an octopus, clinging to Harry tightly. He buries his face in Harry’s shoulder.

This is what it feels like, Harry thinks, smiling stupidly. This is what it feels like to be loved.

Harry wakes up the next morning to the lovely feeling of warmth and safety. He grins sleepily, slowly opening his eyes. In the night, Draco has moved even closer to him. Their legs are tangled together, their arms firmly around the other and Harry’s face is buried in Draco’s shoulder. He sighs contently, before pulling back slightly to meet Draco’s wide eyes. They stare at each other for several moments, before Harry leans in and kisses Draco softly.

Draco gasps lightly, his fingers slipping into Harry’s hair. They pull back after a few moments, both beaming.

“Morning, love,” Draco murmurs.

Harry’s chest feels like it’s about to explode. This uncontrollable, uncontainable happiness is so overwhelming that he can’t help but kiss Draco again. Lightly. Over and over. Draco laughs softly. He pushes Harry away, but not too far away, and then reaches up to caress Harry’s cheek. They stay like that for a moment, basking in each other. This is what Harry wants – has always wanted. To be loved. To love. To be happy.

Finally, they get up and get dressed, stealing light kisses. The dorm is empty, the rest of the boys having long since gone to breakfast. Just before they leave the dorm, Draco hesitates. Harry reaches out and interlaces their fingers, squeezing lightly.

“What is it?” Harry asks gently.

Draco gulps. He looks down at the floor. “What are we telling people?” Draco asks softly. “People know that we’re friends. And I know you pretend not to notice, but people aren’t happy about our friendship. Harry, are you sure you want people to know? I know you hate the press and being in the blasted _Daily Prophet_.”  
Harry tugs Draco to his chest, reaching up with his free hand to touch Draco’s face. “You listen here, Draco Malfoy. I know our past isn’t really the brightest. I know you did things that you regret. I did too. I also know, due to personal experience, that the Wizarding World press loves to shame and blame. But none of that matters. What matters is this: I have lost too many people over the years. Voldemort made sure of that. But here’s the deal, Draco. I love you. And I _won’t_ lose you too. The Wizarding World can sod off. You are what I want and it’s none of their business. I don’t owe them anything. And neither do you.”  
Draco stares at him for a moment, and for a split second, Harry worries that he has gone too far, said too much. But then Draco is kissing him, hard and determined. Harry gasps into it, his heart pounding. Draco pulls back, beaming, open and happy.

“I love you too, you idiot.”  
They walk from the dorm and continue on to the Great Hall. They keep their hands firmly linked. Since it is half way into breakfast, the halls are empty. They stop outside the door to the hall, smiling at each other. Then they push the door open and step into the Great Hall. At first no one notices, as Harry and Draco often arrive together now days. But then people spot their linked hands. The whispers start instantly, following them as they walk towards their table. Ron and Hermione, bless their souls, have saved them their seats. Harry smiles at them gratefully.

Harry immediately starts piling his plate full of food, never letting go of Draco’s hand. Draco leans in, pressing his lips to Harry’s ear.

“Harry,” he whispers, “people are staring.”

Harry looks up from his food and scans the hall. Sure enough, it’s silent. And Draco is right. All eyes are on them. Harry looks back at Draco. “Well then. Let’s give them something to stare at.”  
Harry leans in, kissing Draco hungrily. `they push against each other, their tongues dancing, their panting filling the otherwise silent hall. Harry pulls back after a few moments, smiling as he takes in Draco’s flushed skin and swollen lips.

The hall is still deadly silent.

Then, “I guess your date last night went well,” Hermione remarks.

Harry and Draco stare at each other for a moment, before they burst out laughing.

 

 

*****

 

Life continues on surprisingly normally. There are whispers, sure, and a few hexes tossed in Draco’s direction, but it isn’t as bad as he had anticipated. As for Harry… Draco sighs dreamily, unable to pay attention to Professor Slughorn as he prattles on about the potion the class will be brewing today.

Harry is everything Draco has ever wanted. He is affectionate – constantly touching Draco, like right now. Harry’s hand is gently caressing Draco’s thigh under the table and it feels so _good._ Draco loves it. All of it. The sleepy kisses Harry bestows upon him late at night, when they awake tangled together under the blankets, or in the mornings, when they have to get up. Draco loves the lingering touches of Harry’s fingers grazing his back or his face. And he simply adores when Harry plays with his hair.

Harry is also thoughtful. He brings Draco little gifts, such as snacks, or tea, or chocolate boxes. He makes sure to give Draco plenty attention, because, in Harry’s own words, _Draco, you are an attention whore. Don’t deny it. You practically purr whenever I pay attention to you._

Draco lets his hand reach under the table and interlace with Harry’s fingers that are stroking Draco’s thigh. The two boys look at each other, sharing a soft smile. Everything is all right, now, Draco thinks to himself. Yes, there is the issue of someone wishing Harry dead, but there has been no evidence of that, other than what the centaur said. And yes, Draco is still getting used to dating the Boy Who Lived, also known as his ex-nemesis. But, really, Draco thinks, as Harry sighs and leans his forehead against Draco’s shoulder, his life has never been more perfect.

He should have known that the peace would never last.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
